


Free and Young and We Can Feel None of it

by mr_ankles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Multi, Stiles doesn't remember anything, Stiles is Thomas, Worried Pack, poor guy, you might need to know a little about tmr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_ankles/pseuds/mr_ankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had just up and vanished one day, no trace, no rhyme or reason, just gone. For three and a half years they've been searching, and now they’ve finally managed to figure out where Stiles had been taken: The Maze.</p><p>---</p><p>“Take it all in Greenie!” Someone shouted from near the box. Shakily, the fallen boy rose from the grass and turned around in circles, taking in his surroundings. His breathing was heavy, obviously panicked and scared.<br/>“Hold on, Danny get a close up of the kid."<br/>The camera zoomed closer and the pack let out a collective gasp when the boy’s face was visible: it was Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something that has been in my head for the last few days and I needed to write it. I'm still trying to figure out where this is going to go, so updating might be a little slow. I wanna know what you think, so please hit up the comments.
> 
> Title comes from Sedated by Hozier  
> I own nothing.  
> Un'betad, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

For nearly three and a half years he had been missing. It had happened right after the whole Kanima debacle, everyone was alive, though slightly traumatized, and everything was actually okay. About a week later, the Sheriff had come to Scott, asking him if he’d seen Stiles. Apparently when the Sheriff had gone to wake him up he hadn’t been there, but his car was still there, along with his wallet, his phone, and everything else.

Scott had told Derek and Derek had called a pack meeting. Once they had gathered enough to know that Stiles hadn’t just run away, he had been taken, they launched a full out search. The search continued for months and they came up with nothing. They kept searching for years, but eventually they had to face the facts and admit to themselves they had no idea where Stiles was and they had no idea how to get him back.

So the searching stopped and they moved on with their lives. But they never forgot Stiles, he was always in the back of their minds, they just couldn’t let the spazzy, hyperactive teenager go that easily.

 

\---

 

Today was Stiles birthday, he would have been nineteen, it also marked the day when he had officially been missing for three and a half years. It was a somber event, but the whole pack had agreed it was only right to at least get together and honor his memory by doing what he would have wanted; that is to say spend five minutes with each other without killing one another. Though things had changed over the years and the pack Stiles had known before was now a family. They had come to terms that after over three years they knew they had very little, if no chance of ever seeing Stiles again.

Sure the he was extremely annoying and he could be an ass sometimes, but Stiles was always there for every single one of them, and he had saved their asses too many times to just be forgotten. The Sheriff, Scott, and surprisingly Derek had taken the longest to at least attempt to move on from Stiles. The Sheriff had a brief spout where he fell back into his drinking, but Melissa and Scott were there to pull him out of his misery and remind him he wasn’t alone.

There were days that Scott didn’t sleep when he was out looking for any trace of Stiles, he couldn’t except that his best friend was gone, couldn’t except that his brother wasn’t there. Allison had been there for him, reminded him that he still had the pack and her, and they were doing everything they could to find Stiles.

Derek had Erica, Boyd, and Isaac to distract him from the emptiness he felt whenever he thought about Stiles. He and Stiles had only been together a short two weeks before he was taken. Derek had found the one person who made him happiest and just like that he was pulled from him. Even still, even after they officially ended their search for Stiles, he was always on the lookout for anything that could even remotely lead him to Stiles.

In other words, they were all coping. Barely.

Over the years, the pack had grown extremely close, now they considered themselves a family. After the whole Kanima situation and Stiles going missing, Derek had forgiven Peter for what he had done in a fit of insanity, and he was granted part in the pack. As it turns out Peter was actually a relatively nice guy, except for his little homicidal tendencies here and there, Derek had noticed he was starting to act like the Peter he knew before the fire.

Erica and Boyd had decided to come back to Derek when they realized that what Derek was doing was only trying to ensure their safety. Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, and Danny had all joined the pack as well. Allison became their ambassador of sorts, meeting with other hunters to let them know the Hale pack was not to be touched. Lydia and Danny took up the researching that had been lacking since Stiles had gone.

Eventually their pack became strong and healthy, everyone knew the Hale pack was not to be messed with. Their only recent problems had been a few ballsy hunters thinking they could get a shot at the Hale pack and a couple feral omegas that had to be put down for their own good.

So here they sat, in the living room of the newly rebuilt Hale House, Scott had decided he would tell stories from when he and Stiles were kids, and all the insane things they used to do together. Most of them ended with both of them in trouble or mildly injured, but the sad smile on Scott’s face never fell.

They eventually decided to just snuggle up and watch a movie until everyone fell asleep. Derek, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were on the couch, Lydia, Jackson, Scott, and Allison on each of the loveseats, Peter was snoring in one of the armchairs. Danny was typing furiously on his laptop, stopping every few moments and staring frustratedly at the screen, chewing on his nails before going back to typing.

Just as everyone was nearly asleep, they heard Danny whisper, “Oh my god,” then he shouted and nearly jumped out his seat in excitement, “I did it! I actually did it!”

Everyone jumped, “What? What did you do?” asked Jackson.

“I hacked their cameras! It took me so fucking long, but I did it!”

Derek narrowed his eyes, “Danny, hacked who’s cameras?

“Okay, okay, okay, so a while back I was looking into disappearances similar to Stiles’ again,” that caught everyone’s attention and they were all staring hopefully at Danny, “and I don’t know how but I somehow got to this system call W.I.C.K.E.D, I think it’s some scientific department or something, but I hacked into their mainframe. From what I can tell they’re doing some kind of experiment on teenagers. But I found him, I found Stiles-”

The whole pack erupted in a flurry of cheers, questions, and shouts. Their faces lit up with surprise, and hope, and fear. “Stop! I’m not finished!”

The pack hesitantly sat down, the worry clear in their eyes, “Anyways, I have no idea where this place is or what exactly their testing, but I know it’s called The Maze Trials,” he paused to take a deep breath, “There are at least 40 other boys involved in the trials, and I know this because I just hacked into their cameras, which was really hard to do by the way, and I’m looking at them right now.”

Everyone crowded around Danny and was met with the sight of an enormous glade; small huts made out of wood and straw were clustered in one corner, a small forest was placed next to it, near the huts was what looked to be a farm of sorts. The entire thing was surrounded by enormous concrete walls, one of which seemed to open to somewhere they couldn’t see from the camera angle. Throughout the enclosure, there were boys from what looked like the ages of 12-20 all milling around or doing some type of job. Lydia asked, “Does anyone see Stiles?”

Everyone looked closer to the screen, trying to find some sort of indication that Stiles might be there, but ultimately found nothing. “Danny, I thought you said you found him!” Scott nearly screamed in frustration.

“I did I swear! He should be here! I saw his name on the list. He has to be in there.” Danny said assuredly.

Suddenly all the boys on the screen rushed to gather over a metal platform that looked like it was opening. “Danny can you get sound?”

Danny nodded quickly, typing a few keys on the keyboard, the camera zoomed closer to the box and they were immediately met with the many sounds of all of the boys murmuring and laughing to each other. It was hard to determine exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like “We got a new greenie comin’.” “Wonder what this one will be like.” and “You think this one will klunk his pants just like Chuck?”

“What the hell are they talking about?” Jackson said over the confusion.

Before anyone could even think to answer they all heard the groaning and creaking of the metal doors opening. The boys all crowded closer around the box trying to get a better look, blocking the pack’s view of what was inside.

“What the fuck is going on?” Derek sounded angry.

Danny shook his head, eyes wide, “I have no idea.”  
Their attention was soon drawn back to the laughing heard from the screen, while they hadn’t been looking whatever had been in the cage was out and the other boys were crowding around it. Suddenly another boy burst out of the space the others had confined him in, sprinting like his life depended on it through the field ahead of him. He didn’t make it all that far before tripping and sprawling out on the ground.

“Take it all in Greenie!” Someone shouted from near the box. Shakily, the fallen boy rose from the grass and turned around in circles, taking in his surroundings. His breathing was heavy, obviously panicked and scared.

“Hold on, Danny get a close up of the kid.” That was Peter who spoke up.

The camera zoomed closer and the pack let out a collective gasp when the boy’s face was visible: it was Stiles.

“Holy shit.” Erica whispered, her mouth slack and eyes wide. She along with everyone else, looked like something akin to a fish breathing dry air.

Stiles still looked like himself, amber eyes, upturned nose, pouty mouth, and the countless moles that dotted his skin, but he had obviously grown: he looked taller, more muscular, his hair had even grown out, reaching half way down his forehead instead of the buzzcut he always wore.

It was actually Stiles, the one they had been searching for for nearly 4 years was right in front of them. But they had no way of saving him, hell they didn’t even know where he was, the only thing they did know is that he’s in that glade along with nearly 40 other boys just like him.

The pack had no clue what the boys were doing there in the first place. Was it some kind of sick prison or experiment, they had no idea.

Basically, they were only slightly closer to finding him than they were before. At least now they could see what was happening to him, could know that for now he was unharmed.

“Wait,” Isaac spoke up, “This camera feed is live right?”

“Yeah.” Danny responded, confused.

“If Stiles is just getting there now, what the hell has he been doing for the past 3 and a half years?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so much longer than I wanted it to, so I'm sorry. Anyways, thank you to all who read and enjoyed the story, you bring me joy. I'm going to stick to what happened in the movie mostly, because its easier plot wise. Lastly, I made it so Derek and Stiles were together just before Stiles disappeared. 
> 
> Sorry for the extensive notes,  
> Enjoy!

He awoke gasping and spluttering, greedily gulping in air like his life depended on it. He coughed and panted, he stumbled to his feet looking around frantically to try and figure out where he was. The air was dank and musty, and he had the pressing feeling of claustrophobia, and he soon realized he was in some kind shaft. It was too dark to see to see anything clearly, all he knew was that he was in some sort of room, it was cold and damp and cramped.

Suddenly he heard the sound of metal groaning and screeching and the metal box starting moving rapidly upwards. He fell backward, his terror renewed as the box climbed the elevator shaft faster and faster.

He scrambled around helplessly, trying in vain to find a way out of the metal box. But the only thing he could feel was there were several wooden boxes around him, what they were filled with he had no idea. He curled up in a corner of the box as it continued to ascend, attempting to calm himself as he got more and more worked up.

It could’ve been minutes or hours, it was too hard to tell, before the box came to a startling halt. Panicking, he tried to burrow himself deeper within himself. Suddenly he heard the tell-tale sound of gears turning, and the sound of metal doors creaking and groaned. It wasn’t long before light flooded the box, too bright for him to see clearly after being in the dark for so long.

The next thing he heard was laughter. It was cheery and derisive. The sound of several boys laughing, from what he could tell at him, was enough to make him even more scared. He lifted a shaky hand to try and block the sun from his eyes so he could get a look at the laughing boys. From what he could see, there were several boys all crowded around the metal box, looking down at him as if he were an ant under a magnifying glass.

One of the boys suddenly leaped down from where they were looking on, shaking the cage when he landed heavily. The other boy leaned down in his face and grabbed him around the shoulders, “Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine.”

After the boy had hauled him out of the metal box, the other boys had converged on him, shouting strange things like “Greenie” and “Shank”. Their laughter taunted him and their grabby hands scared him, it was all too much. He felt his breathing become even faster and his heart beat harshly against his chest, he needed to get out of here. This wasn’t right, he needed to get out.

He burst through the wall of boys and sprinted into the open field that lay ahead of him. He ran as his legs could carry him, trying to get away from whatever the hell was going on. Whatever was happening wasn’t safe, it all felt so wrong he wasn’t sure of what to do. So he ran. The next thing he knew was that he was tripping over his own feet and he tumbled face first into the ground.

He let himself stay on the ground, trying to gather himself by breathing deeply and heavily, he could hear the boys laughing even harder in the distance. Shakily he rose to his feet. “Take it all in Greenie!” One of the boys shouted.

He was standing in the middle of a huge field, the entire thing surrounded by enormous thick concrete walls. In one corner was a small forest, in another a small cluster of huts and what looked like hammocks strung up between beams of wood. He turned absently in circles, numbly taking in his surroundings.

He was trapped. That much was for sure, the walls were massive and intimidating. His eyes wandered to the huge break in the walls, it looked like it lead somewhere, a way out maybe. So he hastily started to walk to it, but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you Greenie.”

The boy, well he looked more like a man, was a little shorter than him and dark skinned. Behind him a few of the others were trailing, the other boys seemed to have lost most of their interest and gotten back to whatever they had been doing before.

“Why can’t I go out there?” It’s a way out isn’t it? Why hadn’t they all gone out there?

“Listen hear Greenie and listen good. We only have a few rules here in the Glade. One, do your part, we don’t have time for freeloaders. Two, you never harm another Glader, none of this would work if we didn’t have trust. And most importantly, you never go beyond those walls.”

The man paused for a moment, “Do you remember anything? Your name? Where your from?”

He came to the realization that he remembered nothing, it felt like there were memories right there behind a wall, but he couldn’t reach them. He replied shakily, “I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s alright Greenbean, your name will come back to you in a few days. It’s the one thing they let us keep.”

The one thing they let us keep? Who was they? This was all so confusing, he didn’t know what to do. Before he could freak out further the man said “My name’s Alby,” he turned to face the other boys who had followed him, he gestured to a tall, blonde, skinny looking boy, “This here is Newt, when I’m not around he’s in charge.” He turned to a young boy, no more than 11 or 12, he was short and plump, “This is Chuck, he’s gonna show you around.”

Chuck smiled widely, “Come on, I’ll show you to your bunk.”

That’s how he found himself leaning against a thick post while Chuck strung up his hammock, listening to him mindlessly talk about the Glade, “You’re doing better than I first did,” he was saying, “I klunked my pants twice before they got me out of the Box.”

“The Box? The thing I came up in?”

“Yeah, once a month it comes up with fresh supplies and a new Greenie. I was the new one last month, but now you’re the Greenie.” He said cheerfully.

He liked Chuck, he really did, but he didn’t understand how could be so happy and carefree about this whole thing. They were trapped inside giant concrete walls and the kid was all smiled and laughs. Maybe it was just childish innocence, he thought, maybe he really didn’t know the situation he was in. Speaking of giant concrete walls, he felt his eyes go back to the enormous break in them, it almost looked like a doorway. From the angle he was at he could almost see beyond the opening. He had to get closer.

Chuck’s rambling became increasingly quiet as he walked toward the opening. He was almost near when he heard Chuck trying to catch up to him, “Don’t go in there!”

He stopped short, “You people keep telling me not to go in there, but why? What’s out there?

“No one knows,” Chuck said, “No one but the Runners know what’s out in the Maze.”

He turned to face Chuck, “The Maze? What the hell is that? And what are Runners?” He didn’t wait for an answer he knew he wouldn’t get, and started walking back toward the opening.

“I’m serious, don’t go in there.” Chuck warned desperately.

“I won’t I’m just gonna get a look.” He came feet away from the opening, it lead to a huge hallway looking thing that split off in two directions. Vines swung between the walls and ivy crawled up the surface of each of them, nearly reaching the top.

He ignored Chuck’s pleading and took another step forward, before his foot touched the ground he was thrown to the side by a harsh force. He landed flat on his back, scrambling to his feet, angrily looking for whoever tossed him.

It was the same boy who had hauled him from the Box not hours before. He had his hands out in a sign of peace, saying “Calm, calm,” over and over again. Some of the other boys, including Alby and Newt had gathered around them.

He turned to them, throwing his hands up in disbelief, “What the hell is wrong with you guys? Why won’t you tell me what’s out there?”

Just then a strong wind gushed out of the opening, he turned to face it not even bothering to shield his face from the wind. A great and powerful groaning was heard throughout the Glade, the tell-tale sound of gears turning followed. The concrete doors slowly and steadily slid shut, creating a solid boom when the doorway sealed.

“Next time, I’m gonna let you leave.” The boy who had pushed him said harshly before stalking back to the camp.

 

\---

 

It was later the same night he found himself sitting next to Newt, the two of them leaning against a fallen log while the other boys had their fun not far behind them. The other’s were cheering and laughing as they danced around the fire, drinking and hollering like idiots. Others were cheering on a wrestling match, the same boy had pushed him down earlier facing off with another Glader.

“Hell of a first day Greenie,” Newt said, “Here have a sip of this, put some hair on your chest,” offering a him a jar filled with what he assumed was alcohol.

He hesitantly took a sip, immediately spitting it out, coughing and spluttering as he tried to get rid of what tasted like burning gasoline. “Oh my god, what is that?”

Newt chuckled, “I don’t even know,” he leaned back and gestured to the boy who had pushed him, “Gally’s secret recipe.”

So the kid’s name was Gally, good to know, “Yeah well he’s still an asshole.”

“He saved your life today. Trust me, the Maze is a dangerous place.” Newt took another sip of his drink.

He thought for a moment, rethinking all of the things that had happened to him the mere hours he had been in the Glade, “We’re trapped here aren’t we?”

Newt nodded solemnly, “For the moment, yes,” he turned around again to point at a group of guys surrounding an Asian boy, “But, you see those guys there? Those are the Runners, that guy in the middle there, Minho, is the Keeper of the Runners. Every morning when those doors open, they run the Maze, mapping it, memorizing it, looking for a way out.”

“How long have they been looking?”

“Three years.”

“And they haven’t found anything?

Newt smiled slyly, “It’s not easier said than done. Listen,” he heard what sounded like groaning and shifting coming from deep inside the Maze, “It’s the Maze changing. Changes every night.

The Runners are the fastest, the strongest, the smartest, of all of us. And good this too because if they don’t make it back before those door close, they’re stuck there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the Maze.”

“What happens to them?”

“They’re called Grievers. Of course no one has ever seen one and lived to tell about it. But they’re out there.”

With the more information he gathered, the more he realized just how screwed he was. He was about to ask Newt another question when a glint of metal caught his eye. He looked closer, it looked like a large metal bug, there might have been some kind of writing on the side but he couldn’t tell in the darkness, there looked to be a small camera lense sticking out where it’s face should be. “What is that thing?”

“Oh, we call ‘em Beetle Blades. They’re harmless really, they just kind of scuttle around.” Newt said nonchalantly.

He had a weird sense that someone was watching him on the other side of that camera, and he didn’t like it.

Newt wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “Well that’s enough questions for one night. Come on, let’s go join the fun, you’re supposed to be the guest of honor. Let me show you around.”

Newt led him around the camp, giving names to faces and explaining the different jobs people had, Builders, Slicers, Medjacks. None of them sounded particularly great, “What if I wanna be a runner?”

Newt practically scoffed, “Have you heard any of what I just said, no one wants to be a Runner. It’s not something you sign up for, you get chosen.”

“Chosen by who-” before he could finish he was once again knocked to the ground from behind.

He quickly got to his feet, only to face Gally, “What do you say Greenie? Wanna see what you’re made of?”

A chant of “Greenie, greenie,” began to sound, and cheers erupted as he stepped inside the circle. He and Gally circled each other, “Rules are simple. I try to push you out of the circle, you try to last longer than five seconds. Ready?”

He took a deep breath before nodding curtly. He had no time to react when Gally came at him full force and shoved him out of the circle, a few others boys catching him and throwing him back in, only for Gally to push him face first into the sand.

“Come on, Greenie. We’re not done yet.” They were laughing and cheering, knowing there was no way a Greenie could get the best of Gally. That made him angry, he wanted to prove to them he was better. So he got to his feet and charged, but Gally quickly had him by the arms and tossed him back onto the ground like it was nothing.

The laughter only increased, and Gally was there soaking up the praise and pride, so cocky and sure of himself, it only made him angrier. He charged again, catching Gally by his midsection, Gally pushing him across the sand toward the edge of the circle. But just before he could tossed out again, he shifted his weight and pushed and Gally was the one who had a face full of sand. The crowd erupted in a cheer, clearly surprised the Greenie had managed to defeat Gally.

“Not bad for a Greenie, huh?” He said cockily. Unfortunately, his victory was short lived and Gally swiped his legs clean out from under him, his head his the ground with a sickening thunk. He barely registered the pain or the sound of sympathetic “Oo’s” from the boys, “Thomas,” he said numbly, “I remember my name! I’m Thomas!”

Alby pointed straight at him, a huge smile displayed across his face, “Thomas!” The other Gladers joined in his cheer, crowding around him, patting him on the back and congratulating him.

 

\---

 

“Why the hell does he think his name is Thomas?!” Lydia shrieked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how much I like this chapter... I might have to revisit it later :/
> 
> Enjoy!

“Why the hell does he think his name is Thomas?!” Lydia shrieked. She turned to Danny eyes wide and questioning.

“Why are you looking at me? Why would I have any clue?” Danny threw his hands up dramatically.

“Well you’re the one that found him, you’ve got to know something!”

Danny sighed, “Honestly, I found him by luck. His real name is in the database, as well as the other boys. They said their names were, Newt, Alby, Chuck, right? Those aren’t their real names either. I don’t know why the people that put them there gave them other names, but I don’t think that’s the biggest thing we need to worry about right now.”

“I agree with Danny. Why don’t we discuss the fact that Stiles is trapped in a huge, deadly maze and doesn’t even remember his own name!” Allison said almost hysterically.

The pack was quiet, this was too much. Sure they had been through a lot of complicated shit, but this was so far over their heads. Some kind of scientist group kidnapping kids, wiping their memories, and putting them in some giant maze like rats? It’s insane. And for what purpose, they couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“What are we supposed to do?” Boyd spoke up from his seat beside Erica, “Do you think we should let the Sheriff know?”

They all looked to Derek for the answer. Of course, he was the alpha and he was the one that was supposed to have all the plans, but truth was he had no idea how to get out of this mess. He and Stiles had only been together a short two weeks before he disappeared, and Derek wanted him back more than anything. But rescuing him from a monstrous concrete maze in God know’s where seemed just about impossible at the moment.

Derek sighed heavily before he began, “I think it’s best that we let his dad know on this one. This is his son that has been missing, and besides he might be able to help find him. As for what we’re going to do, Danny do you have another computer you can use?”

Danny nodded.

“Alright good, we’ll use one of them to monitor Stiles while we try and find out where he is. Danny you use the other one to try and do as much as you can to pinpoint his location, if you help with anything let one of us know. The Sheriff may have connections in order to help us. I think we should tell Chris too, he might know something as well.”

The pack nodded in agreement, they had gotten past the tension with the remaining Argents and had developed a strong truce, they had helped each other out on more than one occasion.

Derek continued, “Erica, Boyd, and Peter, you are going to take first watch of Stiles, if you see anything happening you call me. Scott, I want you to go grab the Sheriff and bring him here, try not to tell him anything until he gets here. Jackson, go with Danny and help him with anything he needs in order to find Stiles. Isaac, you and I are going to talk to Chris. I want everyone back here in half an hour.”

The pack gave barely a nod of confirmation before they were off.

 

\---

 

In the midst of a mountain of paper work, the Sheriff heard a soft knocking on his office door, he mumbled a short “Come in,” and was surprised to see Scott enter.

Things had been rough for John over the years, losing his only son wasn’t something easily gotten over. His grey-hairs were becoming more prominent and the wrinkles were slowly making their appearance on his face. His age was beginning to show far too early, searching for Stiles had put a lot of stress on him, and their was a short time where he lost it.

He fell back into drinking and had even thought about ending it a few times. Both his son and his wife were gone and he couldn’t get them back. It was the thought of Stiles still out there and alive that kept him going. Melissa and Scott had stepped in to take care of him, keeping up his healthy diet for Stiles’ sake and taking away the alcohol when they knew he had too much. John was so grateful for what the McCall’s had done for him, knowing what a mess he had been in before.

“Scott, what are you doing here, son?”

Scott looked like he was trying to pick his words carefully, “I need you to come with me to the Hale house.”

“Hale’s? What’s going on this time?” Great another supernatural conundrum he would get caught up in, “I’ll have to come by later if it’s not urgent, I have a lot of paper work to do.”

“Sir, I’m going to tell you something, just don’t freak out okay. We’ll explain everything when we get to Derek’s.” Scott looked like he was waiting for John to say something.

John was just confused now, “Go on, Scott. What is it?”

“We found Stiles.”

A pin drop could’ve been heard in the silence that followed. The Sheriff was in a state of shock, “You found Stiles?”

“Yeah, but we don’t know where he is. We need your help to find him.”

John held a hand up, getting more and more agitated, “I thought you just told me you found him.”

“Well, we did. We found him, but we don’t know the exact location of where he is.” Scott said awkwardly.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow, “Scott, what the hell does that mean?”

Scott sighed, “Listen, just come with me to Derek’s, we’ll explain all we know.”

 

\---

 

“What do you think he’s been doing the last three years?”

“Erica, if I knew that I would tell you, but honestly I don’t think I even want to know.” Boyd wrapped an arm around her shoulder to comfort her, he knew she and Stiles had been especially close and finally finding him was making her re-live her sadness.

“Aren’t you even a little bit curious?” Erica leaned back on the couch and sighed tiredly, “I mean three years is a long time.”

Peter re-entered the room and took a seat beside her and Boyd, “Give it time, Erica, we’ll figure this out.”

Erica sighed defeatedly and turned her attention back to the computer screen where Stiles (or Thomas as he thought his name) was tending to some crops along with Newt and another glader. It had been several hours since “Thomas” remembered his name, he was saying “Has anybody tried climbing to the top?”

“Tried it. Ivy doesn’t reach all the way to the top.” Newt said, looking slightly annoyed.

“What about sending someone back down in the Box?”

Newt rolled his eyes, “Box doesn’t go down with anyone in it, we’ve tried.”

“What if-”

“Whatever you’re about to say we’ve tried it, okay. There’s nothing you can think of that we havn’t already tried. The only way out of here is through the Maze,” Newt reached down to grab a bucket and shovel, then tossed it at Stiles who clumsily caught it, “You wanna be a real help, go get more fertilizer.”

Stiles’ shoulders slumped in defeat and he started walking towards the woods, but not before tripping slightly on one of the wooden posts sticking out of the ground. Peter chuckled, “Well at least we know not much has changed.” Erica smiled softly, seeing Stiles act somewhat like his old self made her feel like there was still hope of getting him back just the way he was before.

Minutes later, they watched as Stiles made his way through the small forest, all the way mumbling complaints about having to get fertilizer in the middle of the woods. When he reached a small clearing, he dropped the bucket and looked around curiously. The camera zoomed closer to what Stiles was looking at, it was a crude wooden slab the name George sloppily carved into it. Stiles eyes narrowed at it, he turned his head to look at his surroundings, eyes widened and mouth opening as he noticed the scattered bones littered throughout the clearing.

Each were in various stages of decay, mostly animal bones, but it looked to Erica like a few of them were human remains. The whole feeling of the place suddenly felt so much darker than before. Stiles rose to his feet and turned around only to jump back in shock at seeing another Glader just standing there.

The boy was shaking, his face scrunched up in pain. Erica thinks he looks familiar, one of the Runners Newt had pointed out only hours before. Stiles tilted his head in confusion, “Uh, Ben, right? I don’t know if we met but-” Ben was seething, his breathing was heavy and labored, “Are you okay?”

Ben face contorted into animal rage and he launched forward, knocking Stiles to the ground. “What the fuck?” She heard Boyd shout from beside her, Peter had leaned forward in his seat, eyes filled with concern. Ben and Stiles were scrambling on the forest floor, “What the hell, man?” Stiles yelled.

Ben had a strong grip on Stiles’ wrists, shouting “I saw you! This is all your fault! I saw you!” The grip on Stiles’ arms increased and he shouted in pain. Ben removed the pressure from his wrists only to wrap them around Stiles’ throat, cutting off his oxygen supply.

From the camera angle, Erica could see Stiles’ eyes widen as his oxygen was cut off. Erica’s fear rose as she saw Stiles grasping at Ben’s arms and face, trying to pry his arms off of his throat. Stiles attempted to punch Ben, probably hoping to knock him off that way, but Ben’s grip held true. Stiles reached out with one hand and grabbed the skull of what looked like a pig and hit it over Ben’s head, giving him just enough time to slip out of Ben’s hold and make a break for it.

Stiles didn’t allow himself time to catch his breath, only ran as fast as he could out of the clearing and back to the Gladers, Ben right on his tail. Her, Boyd, and Peter were all on the edge of their seats as they watched Stiles sprint through the forest. He reached the top of a small hill when Ben tackled him from behind, the both of them tumbling down before beginning their chase again.

“Help! Help!” Stiles was shouting as he ran into the Glade. The other Gladers quickly noticed what was wrong and rushed to his aid. Ben once again tackled Stiles, pulling him onto the ground, “I’ll kill you!” he screamed as his tried to get his hands back around Stiles’ throat. But before he could, Newt hit him over the head with the end of his shovel, knocking him off Stiles long enough for the other Gladers to grab him and keep him on the ground as he struggled.

Stiles quickly got to his feet, trying to regain his breath, “What the hell happened?” one of them shouted.

“I don’t know, he just attacked me!” Stiles exclaimed as more boys gathered around them.

Alby walked into the circle, looking over Ben, “Lift up his shirt.”

Ben eyes widened in fear, “No, no, please” he said pitifully. One of the boys yanked up his shirt to reveal a large puncture mark in his stomach, black and purple veins spidering their way from the wound and spreading throughout his stomach. The group recoiled in shock when they saw it, Gally said in disbelief, “He’s been stung. In the middle of the day?”

Erica looked to her pack mates in confusion, “Stung by what?” The other two didn’t even take their eyes off the screen as they shrugged helplessly.

Alby stood, “Put him in the the Pit.” The others hastily obliged, carrying a kicking and screaming Ben off to the Pit. The other Gladers dissembled and went back to their work.

“What the hell just happened?” Erica said hysterically. She needed to call Derek.

 

\---

 

Derek and Isaac were in the middle of their conversation with Chris when his phone rang, he answered it without even looking at who was calling, “Hello?”

“Derek,” it was Erica, her voice was slightly shaky, which was more than enough to put him on edge, “something happened, we’re not sure what, but one of them attacked Stiles. Tried to strangle him in the middle of the woods, Stiles is okay but the guy kept yelling ‘You did this,’ at him. I don’t know what any of it means!”

“Alright, Erica, calm down. We’ll be there as soon as we can, just keeping watching Stiles, see if you can get any more information from what they’re saying,” He nodded to Isaac and Chris, signalling to them that it was time to go, “We’ll be there in about 5 minutes.”

“What was that about?” Chris asked.

“Someone attacked Stiles. We don’t know why, but apparently they were telling him that it was his fault.”

“What was his fault?” Isaac’s eyes narrowed.

Derek sighed, “I honestly have no idea.”

When they arrived at the Hale house only minutes later, they were met with the sight of the Sheriff’s cruiser in the driveway, John and Scott just getting out of the car.

“Hale, you better explain to me what the hell is going on.” John said seriously, and Derek couldn’t blame the guy, being told his son had been found after over three years wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

“Let’s just get inside first and we’ll tell you all we know.” This was going to be one hell of a conversation.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and support!  
> Italics= Stiles/Thomas's dream
> 
> Enjoy!

“So you mean to tell me, that my son, after over three years is just now getting to this maze? And that you have no idea where this place is or why the hell the boys are there in the first place?”

Derek looked around, like he was looking for someone to give a better answer, “So far, that’s all we know.” he said assuredly.

There was an awkward silence as the pack watched the Sheriff take in all the new information. His son was trapped in a huge maze, unaware of his own name. It was almost too much, how on earth were they going to fix this one?

Chris looked oddly confused about something, like he was trying to figure out why it sounded familiar, after a moment his eyes widened. “Derek I need to see this place Stiles is in.”

Derek nodded to Danny who was now back with his computer, Danny turned the laptop to the group. The screen showed Stiles (Thomas) talking with another Glader, Ably if he remembers correctly. They were talking about what had just happened with Ben and something called the Changing which only happened when someone was stung by a Griever. Apparently a Griever sting triggered some kind of period where the person stung remembers. Remembers what exactly, he had no idea. A sick part of himself partially hoped Stiles would be stung, maybe he would remember himself and his family.

Chris’ mouth drops open in shock, “I think I know what this is.”

The pack is in shock after that statement. “Well, what the hell is it, Argent?” The Sheriff is almost hysterical.

Chris takes a deep breath, “There is a group of hunters, they call themselves WICKED, its an acronym for something that isn’t important at the moment. They take kids they think have potential to be hunters, they erase their memories and put them through a series of tests. The tests are designed to create the perfect hunter, one that can adapt to any situation and have no qualms with killing. I’ve only heard about it in stories, I didn’t think it was actually real.”

“Why is is always hunters?” Jackson muttered forlornly.

Chris ignores Jackson and continues, “The first trial is more of a trial period, seeing if the child of choice is good for the job. They test the ability of the child, and whether or not they are a fit choice, then they move on to one stage after the other, the one’s who make it to the end are made into the ultimate hunter. It’s ingenious and sadistic.”

The pack was in various stages of shock around the room, the Sheriff simply looked defeated. Isaac spoke up softly, “How are we supposed to get him back?”

Chris sighed and ran a hand over his face, “I’ll ask around with some other hunters, but there’s no guarantee if they’ll know anything. I think the best thing we can do now is continue looking into WICKED’s database, which Danny has been doing successfully. Until we’re able to get more information, there’s not much else we can do but watch.”

 

\---

 

_Images flickered through his mind in flashes of color and whisper’s of voices._

_There was an image of him behind some kind of computer, fingers dancing across the screen as he did something he couldn’t remember doing._

_Thomas stood in front of glass tubes filled with water, someone was screaming at him from inside the tube, but he couldn’t tell who._

_He looked up from an examination table seeing people in surgical clothing. A woman’s voice sounded as the surgical team descended on him, “WICKED is good.”_

_A girls voice reverberated in his head throughout the entire thing, all she was saying was “Thomas” over and over again, like she was trying to get his attention. “Everything is going to change,” she said._

_He heard his own voice say, “WICKED is good.”_

_The images were overwhelming, Thomas didn’t understand any of it. Was that his life before the Maze. Who were those people? What did the women mean when she said ‘WICKED was good’_

_Suddenly the images changed and he was in a room, the room was essentially ordinary, cozy and homely. What was this place? The second thing he noticed was the people sitting around him. A boy with a crooked jaw and dark hair was cuddled up with a girl with dark curly hair and a dimpled smile. A dark skinned boy, like Alby, was sitting with a blonde haired girl in his lap. To his left was another couple, a boy with short blonde hair and blue eyes, and a girl with strawberry blonde hair. Reclining in an armchair was an older man who was snoring softly. On the floor beneath him was a tall boy with curly blonde hair and a tanned skinned boy with dark hair had his arm around Curly-Hairs shoulder. To his right was a muscular man with a serious face and very expressive eyebrows. The weirdest thing was the sour-faced man had his arms wrapped around Thomas, holding him close._

_They were all so at peace with each other, like_ _a family. Thomas didn’t know how to react to it._

_Everyone was enraptured with something that was playing on the TV, but Thomas ignored that in favor of studying the people around him. Who the hell were these people? They seemed so familiar, like when you have a word on the tip of your tongue, so close to the surface yet so far away. Was this his life before the Maze? Or was this some sort of sick trick his mind had brought upon him._

_Sour-Face turned his head to the side to gently kiss Thomas’ forehead, “Sti-”_

 

Thomas was rudely woken from his sleep by Chuck, “Come on, you’ve been sleeping all afternoon, you’re going to miss the Banishing.”

Thomas momentarily forgot about his dream, “The what?”

Chuck looked down at his feet sadly, “They’re Banishing Ben for what he did to you. Rules are simple and he violated one of them: Never harm another Glader.”

Thomas had an idea of it already, but asked anyway, “Where are they Banishing him to?”

Chuck didn’t answer, just lowered his head and walked to where the other Gladers had gathered, the entrance to the Maze. Thomas hung back with Chuck, watching as Ben was dragged to the entrance by Minho, blubbering and whimpering pitifully, “Please. Please listen to me. Please don’t.”

Surrounding them stood several Gladers, the ones on both sides of Ben and Minho stood ready with long sharpened sticks, preventing Ben from making a run for it. The Gladers standing behind held large wooden poles, a bar of wood at the top, as to push someone forward without getting to close to the great concrete walls that could crush anyone who got too close.

Minho looked down sadly, Thomas knew how hard it must be to send away someone who had been there so long. Minho took the sack of water he held in his hands and threw it into the Maze, just beyond the entrance, enough to give Ben the slightest promise of a fighting chance.

Minho stood back and took a pole of his own along with Alby and the others. The sounds of gears turning and strong gust of wind coming from the Maze signaled the closing of the doors. Ben was begging and pleading, “Please don’t. Please,” tears running his eyes and blood dripping from his mouth. They had never treated him for the Griever sting, seeing as he was going to die either way, they weren’t willing to waste their resources.

“Posts!” Alby shouted, and the other Gladers lowered their poles, “Move in,” the boys converged pushing Ben closer to the entrance of the Maze. Ben was half-heartedly pushed against the poles, futilely looking for a way out. He was hysterical as he tried to beg his way out of the situation, but he knew it was for nothing.

The doors were closing slowly as Ben was pushed farther and farther into the Maze, almost past the entrance. Eventually he accepted his fate and walked unsteadily into the Maze. Ben last scream of “No!” was abruptly cut off by the boom of the concrete doors sealing shut.

The Gladers stood for a moment, no one said or did anything, they just took a moment to mourn the loss of another Glader. Alby turned to the group, “He belongs to the Maze now.” Without another word, Alby walked away, giving Thomas half a glance before he did so.

The boys slowly trickled away and went back to their business, some of them looked at Thomas with anger in their eyes, others gave him a look of pity, and some didn’t look at him at all.

Thomas couldn’t help but think back to when Ben had said this was all ‘his fault’. What did that mean? Did it have to do with his strange dreams?

Speaking of dreams, the memory of those strange people was still swimming around in his head. It had been too real to be just a dream, he knew those people, he could tell. But he didn’t know who they were or why they were so important. The sour-faced one had tried to tell him something, but he was woken before he could hear it.

It had to have just been a dream, right? People weren’t supposed to remember anything other than their names, that’s how it was with everyone else. Why should he be any different? But he still couldn’t deny how real the images felt. He decided it was best he worried about it later, he had more important things to think about.

Thomas turned to look at the Maze, silently wishing Ben good luck because even if he did attack him, Ben didn’t deserve a punishment like that. Thomas turned his back and returned to camp.

 

\---

 

“Well that was fucked up.” Scott said bluntly.

“You can say that again,” Isaac piped in, “Did they really just throw that kid into the Maze and leave him there to die?”

“Well he did try to kill Stiles…” The pack in a state of mixed emotion, they weren’t quite sure if they should feel angry or saddened by the events that just took place.

Chris had left to look into potential leads in finding any information on WICKED and where they were. The Sheriff had gone back to the station to try and use his connections to get any information he could. In the meantime, the pack couldn’t do much but watch Stiles and hope Danny may find something helpful through his hacking.

“What do we do now?” Scott said defeatedly. He felt useless, they had finally found his best friend and he could do nothing to get him back, only sit on his ass and wait. He needed his brother back, he didn’t know how long he was willing to wait until he went crazy.

“I think it’s time we all get some rest. It’s been a long day and nothing good will come of it if we’re all suffering from sleep deprivation. I’ll keep watch over Stiles while you guys sleep. We’ll figure out a schedule in the morning when we’re all rested.” Derek put a reassuring hand on Scott’s shoulder. He knew there was little chance the pack would get a good night’s sleep, but the pack looked at him gratefully.

There was little word exchanged as the pack went upstairs to get ready for bed. The girl’s gave Derek a kiss on the forehead before heading up to their rooms, the boys simply nodding meaningfully at him before doing the same.

When they had eventually vacated the living room Derek slumped back into the couch with a heavy sigh. He ran a hand over his face in weariness. On the screen, Stiles was sleeping soundly in one of the many hammocks the other Gladers had set up.

It was an odd feeling, feeling so close to finding Stiles but also so far away. It was a mixture or hope and frustration. He wouldn’t allow himself to give up on Stiles when he knew they were so close to finally having him back with them. He longed for the day when he would at last have the feeling of Stiles back in his arms.  

 


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas watched from afar as Alby and Minho said their goodbyes to Newt before running into the Maze. He knew that until they found a new Runner, Alby was filling Ben’s spot for the time being. Newt was in charge while Alby was gone, and everyone seemed fine with it. But Thomas couldn’t help but have a bad feeling as he watched Alby enter the Maze.

Later that day he sat on a tree stump as he watched Newt and another Glader hack at another tree with their machetes. “Why did Alby go into the Maze?”

“He’s going to retrace Ben’s steps.” Newt replied simply.

“He’s going back to the place where Ben was just stung?” Thomas said in disbelief. How

was that in any way a good idea?

“Listen, Alby knows what he’s doing. Better than any of us in fact.”

“What does that mean?”

Newt sighed and scratched at his ear, “It’s like you’ve heard, yeah? Every month the box

sends up a new Greenie. But someone had to be first. Someone had to spend a whole month in the Glade alone. And that person was Ably,” Newt turned back to chop at the tree trunk, “It can’t have been easy, but when those other boys started comin’ up one after the other, he saw the truth. He learned that the most important thing is that we all have each other.”

Thomas didn’t say a word. He simply stood, grabbed his own machete and joined Newt in hacking at the tree. He and Newt shared small smiles before getting back to work.

Eventually the other runners had returned to the Glade at their usual time, all except Minho and Alby. This was more than enough to set the other Gladers on edge. As the day was nearing an end, right about the time the doors were about to close, the boys gathered at the entrance to the Maze.

“Shouldn’t they be back by now?” Thomas was getting worried. They should be back, what if something happened?

“They’re gonna make it.” Newt said assuredly. The other Gladers didn’t say a word as they waited at the entrance. Thomas could tell they were worried, and they had every right to be, their Leader and Keeper of the Runners had yet to return. They all knew what it meant if they didn’t return before the closing of the doors, they would stuck in the Maze, and no one had survived a night out in the Maze.

“Can’t we send someone after them?” Thomas said, he couldn’t just stand there while Minho and Alby were out there.

“It’s against the rules,” Gally said quietly, “Either they make it back or they don’t.”

Newt turned to Thomas, “Can’t risk losing anyone else.”

The tell-tale gust of wind and heavy groaning of the doors made Thomas’s fears come to light. They needed to make it back, they had to.

“Oh no.” he heard Chuck say quietly beside him.

Around the corner Thomas caught a glimpse of movement, “There!” he shouted pointing to where Minho was dragging an unmoving Alby to the entrance.

“Wait, no, something’s wrong.” Newt muttered. Minho was screamed in exertion as he tried to drag Alby to the entrance. The doors were getting closer and closer to slamming shut, they weren’t going to make it, Thomas knew that. He joined in with the other boys, screaming and cheering for Minho to make it.

“Come on, you can do it!”  
“You can make it!”

Minho attempted to drag Alby by his feet, “You gotta leave him!” Gally shouted.

Thomas looked to the other boys as they stood there, screaming for Minho to leave Alby and save himself. They weren’t going to make it. He knew what he had to do.

Before he could even allow himself to think it through, he ran through the ever closing gap of the entrance. The Gladers shouted at him to get back, trying to drag him back by his shirt but he was already too far. The gap became smaller and smaller as he forced himself through to the other side. He fell through to the other side just as the cement walls slammed shut.

He was breathing heavily, relieved that he had actually made it through instead of being squashed like a pancake. Thomas looked to Minho, who was on his knees and breathing heavily, “Good job,” he said tiredly, “You just killed yourself.”

“What?”

 

\---

 

“Stiles, you absolute idiot!” Lydia shouted from her seat on the couch.

It had been a while since the pack had all woken up and gotten settled in front of the screen. Danny had figured out how to stream the footage from the TV so they could all have a better look at what was happening. They had still yet to hear from Chris or the Sheriff if they had found anything. However, they weren’t too focused on that, they were more focused on the fact that Stiles had just ran into the Maze and was now trapped there for the duration of the night.

The pack watched as Stiles crawled over to Alby’s unconscious body, “What happened to him?”

“What do you think?” Minho said, “He got stung.”

Stiles gently touched the wound on Alby’s head, “What happened to his head?”

Minho looked down at his lap, “I did what I had to.”

An animalistic scream sounded from within the Maze, Minho groaned painfully as he got to his feet and started walking away. Thomas made to grab Alby’s legs, “Alright, help him lift him.”

“We gotta go. The Maze is already changing.” Minho said, ignoring Stiles’s request.

“Minho!” Stiles shouted to try and get his attention, “We can’t just leave him.”

Several minutes later the pack watched as Minho and Stiles pulled Alby’s body up the side of one the walls through the thick ivy that layered it. They has wrapped strands of ivy around his chest and had made a makeshift pulley-system to drag him body up the wall. This was the best way to keep Alby out of danger.

Alby’s body was about 2/3’s of the way up the wall before they heard the shifting of walls and the groaning of a creature. From the camera angle they were unable to see what it was, but from the way Minho’s eyes widened in fear they could tell it was bad. “We gotta go.”

“No, just a little more then we can tie it off.” Stiles insisted, but Minho wasn’t listening, he was more focused on whatever was coming from the walls to the left of them.

“Sorry, Greenie.” Minho said quietly, then let go of the ivy and ran off in the other direction, leaving Stiles alone. Without the strength of Minho, Stiles was dragged closer the wall and Alby dropped slightly down the ivy.

Scott was tempted to scream at Minho through the screen for leaving his best friend, but he could see it in his eyes that he was deathly afraid at what laid ahead.

The groan was heard again, this time accompanied by the strong metallic clinking of something moving. Stiles eyes widened in fear, still having a firm grasp on the rope of ivy holding Alby, he shuffled himself under the blanket of ivy that hung at the bottom of the wall.

The camera had followed him under the blanket and from there they could hear the loud sound of Stiles’s breathing and the metallic clinking getting closer. Through a hole in the ivy, they watched as metal legs, ones that resembled spider legs, stomp their way across their view. The pack was silent in fear for Stiles.

They could hear the shakiness in his breathing and could see the same fear in his eyes from before. The sound passed eventually, leaving an eerie quiet. Stiles tied the rope around a strong branch of ivy at the bottom of the wall, leaving Alby safe, at least for now.

Stiles stood and walked cautiously down one of the paths, the camera following his steps. They assumed it was traveling along one of the walls based on the angle shown. Stiles’ footsteps were almost extremely loud compared to the silence around him.

Stiles looked down and groaned in disgust, lifting his shoe they saw a brown slimy, sludge-like liquid sticking to it. Stiles groaned in disgust as he tried to wipe the slime from his shoe. Suddenly, more of the substance dribbled down from above and onto Stiles’ shoulder, “Ew, gross.” Jackson muttered.

Stiles gathered some of it in his fingers looking at it in confusion, they saw his eyes widen before he looked above him. A roar shook the camera and they saw the creature drop down in front of Stiles, who nearly fell on his ass in shock. He quickly gathered himself enough to turn and run from the creature.

“What the hell is that thing?” Scott shouted.

“I think it’s safe to say that’s a Griever.” Peter said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

They watched in horror as Stiles ran through the Maze, taking random turns in order to get away from the Griever on his tail. After a moment, Stiles took one wrong turn and led himself into a dead end. He looked around dismay, turned back to where the Griever was coming around the corner, “Oh shit.” Had it not been for the circumstances, they probably would’ve laughed at his response, but seeing as he was running for his life, it wasn’t really the best time.

There was a slab of broken concrete on the ground close to one of the walls, they watched as Stiles ran full speed and used it to lift off the ground and grab onto the ivy that covered the wall. Stiles struggled to pull himself up as the Griever started to climb up along with him. When he reached the top the pack saw that the walls weren’t all the same size, this allowed Stiles to scramble from one wall to another, trying desperately to evade the Griever.

As they watched, the pack eventually found their voices, cheering Stiles on as he raced throughout the Maze. In the back of their heads, they knew it wouldn’t help Stiles, but they needed to distract themselves from the fact that they could do nothing but watch. They found themselves screaming at the screen, willing their voices to somehow help Stiles make it through.

After another poor turn, Stiles nearly ran straight off one of the walls. It stopped abruptly, about 10 or 15 feet away from another wall face, which was covered in thick ivy. Stiles went to back up and find another way out, but the Griever had caught up to him, it roared in his face before using its spider-like limbs to rapidly make its way towards him.

They knew what Stiles was going to do only seconds before he did it, and that was jump. They watched in shock as Stiles threw himself off of the walkway and across the clearing, his body hit the opposite wall and his hand scrambled for purchase on the thick ivy.

Lydia shrieked and covered her eyes, the rest of them were staring in horrified fascination. The Griever took no time to join Stiles on the wall, its weight made it hard to find stable purchase on the wall, the ivy was ripping and tangling as the Griever tried to grab Stiles with its metallic legs.

Within the chaos they lost sight of Stiles among the ivy and the Griever slipping its way down the wall. Finally the Griever’s grip on the wall gave way and it fell about 10 to the ground below. They watched as Stiles struggled to get himself untangled from the ivy as the Griever tried to do the same.

After a moment, Stiles was finally free, he got to his feet and ran to the other end of the hall, there he ran straight into Minho. Minho looked at him in shock, “You’re one crazy son of a bitch.”

Without another word Stiles and Minho raced away from the Griever, as they ran some of the walls began shifted and sliding, blocking off certain halls and opening new ones. “Come on!” Minho yelled as they neared one of the shifting walls, the long section of wall was slowly closing, “This section’s closing.”

Minho ran straight through and to the other side, but Stiles stopped about a quarter of the way through and backtracked to the entrance.

“What the hell is he doing?” Scott screamed. The rest of the pack could only watch in terror as Stiles just stood there as the wall behind him was shutting. Across the hall Minho was shouting his name, Thomas, screaming at him to run.

The Griever came into view, scuttling its way rapidly towards Stiles who shouted, “Come on!”

When the Griever was dangerously close, Stiles took off running. He sprinted down the closing corridor, the Griever right on his tail, the space getting smaller and smaller. Minho remained on the other side, shouting encouragements, the pack joined in even though they knew they couldn’t be heard.

Stiles screamed in exertion as he pushed himself through the remaining sliver of space, the door slammed shut, crushing the Griever within. Stiles collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily and laughing hysterically. Minho had knelt down beside him, put a hand on his shoulder before shaking his head and laughing too. Over their heads, the sky was beginning to lighten, signalling morning. They had done it, they were the first to survive a night in the Maze.

The pack let out the breath they had all been holding in. Erica had a hand on her chest, like she had just had a small heart attack, “I swear to God, when we get him back, I’m gonna kill him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what guys, I created a brand spanking new blog for anyone who wants to prompt me: @mr-ankles.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

Chuck and the others had gathered around the entrance to the Maze the minutes the sun had risen. They watched as the concrete doors slid open, revealing nothing but empty space. Chuck knew it had been foolish for him to hope that Thomas, Minho, and Alby would make it.

Chuck sighed sadly, he’d thought he’d finally found a good friend, Thomas had been so nice to him, he didn’t treat him like a kid like everyone else.

“They’re not coming back.” He heard Winston say forlornly. The rest of the boys let out a sigh as their fears were confirmed: their leaders weren’t coming back, a few more lives lost to the Maze.

Chuck stared into the Maze for another moment before turning his back and walking back toward the Glade with the others.

He stiffened when he heard Zart mutter “No way.” Chuck turned on his heels back to the Maze, seeing a haggard Thomas and Minho carrying an unconscious Alby between them. He was filled was relief and happiness when he saw his friends alive.

He and the others ran back to the entrance to the Maze to meet the trio. Thomas and Minho made it to the entrance before they both collapsed in exhaustion, plopping Alby down in front of them. Clint and Jeff hurried over and gathered up Alby before carrying him away to the medic tent.

Thomas and Minho were both on their knees, breathing heavily and obviously relieved to be back in the Glade. “Did you see a Griever?” Chuck asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

Minho smiled tiredly, “We didn’t just see one, Thomas killed it.”

The rest of the Gladers turned cautiously to Thomas who chose to look down sheepishly at his filthy hands. No one had ever seen a Griever before and now this Greenie had managed to kill one, no one had seen that one coming.

 

\---

 

_The vivid images flashed through his mind again. Flashes of color and sound that he couldn’t quite understand._

_The voices saying “WICKED is good.” The girl telling him everything was going to change. Someone was screaming in defiance from a tube of water, bubbles streaming from their mouth. The flashes of computer screens and a woman breathing down his neck, telling him “well done”._

_Thomas didn’t understand their significance any more than he had the first time he had had this dream. He still didn’t understand. Were these the people that put him here? What had they done to him? What had he done_ with _them?_

_The images changed again, just like they had the last time._

_He found himself in the middle of a clearing, trees and wildlife surrounding him, there was a group of teenagers fighting around him. The blonde girl was taking a swing at the crooked-jawed boy who swiftly ducked under and swung his leg out to take out the girls, who fell to the ground with a huff._

_“Erica, don’t let your guard down so easily.” A voice said, he turned quickly to see it was grumpy-face. Erica turned and nodded dutifully to him and went back to sparring with the other boy._

_Thomas looked around the clearing, the dark-skinned boy was sparring with both the a blonde boy and the curly-haired one. They were all moving with amazing speed and finesse, they looked like trained professionals more than teenagers. It almost seemed unnatural, the amount of talent they had when it came to fighting._

_While he was watching, he could have sworn their eyes had turned to a bright gold, but that couldn’t be right. Right?_

_The strawberry-blonde and dark-haired girl were doing what looked like target practice, several bullseyes were pinned up on different trees. They were both letting their arrows fly with practiced ease._

_What kind of teenagers did this for fun? Is this what normal teenagers did? He didn’t think so._

_Grumpy-face looked toward him and spoke, “Stiles why don’t you practice your shooting, I know Argent has been helping you with your aim.”_

_“Derek you really think it’s a good idea to give Stilinski a weapon? He could trip and brain himself without even getting off a shot.” The blonde-haired boy snickered._

_Grumpy-face, or Derek, gave the boy an unimpressed look, “Jackson please, I have faith that Stiles won’t hurt himself,” he gave it some thought, “well maybe not complete faith.”_

_The rest of the group laughed._

Thomas groaned as he woke, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched. “What the hell is a Stiles?” he thought to himself. Was this Derek talking to him when he said that? It was a dream right? He had thought the same thing with the first dream, but they both seemed way too real to be just a dream. They had to mean _something_. There were too many unanswered questions for him to even think straight. He knew he couldn’t dwell on it forever , so for now he shrugged it off, that was a problem to be solved another day.

There was still daylight, so he assumed he hadn’t slept for a whole day. He and Minho had been allowed to take leave after a night spent out in the Maze. Gally had insisted they hold a council when they both woke. He was infuriated with Thomas for breaking the rules, which Thomas could understand, but Thomas couldn’t just leave Minho and Alby out there to die. The others wouldn’t have done anything, so he did.

Thomas sighed, swung into a seated position on the hammock, pulled on his boots and a shirt before walking over to the hut where the council was taking place.

 

\---

 

Thomas rolled his eyes as Gally spouted his nonsense, “For years, we have coexisted with these things. And now you’ve killed one of them,” Gally turned to Thomas, eyes filled with frustration, “What do you think is gonna happen now? They’re just gonna leave us alone? I don’t think so.”

“What exactly do you want us to do?” Newt asked, brow raised.

“Thomas broke one of our rules. He needs to be punished.” Gally said definitely.

The rest of the Gladers shouted in protest.

“He saved Alby’s life!” One shouted.

“You can’t punish him for helping them! They’d be dead without him!” Another said.

Gally’s anger rose, “Everyone shut up!” he shouted. The room quieted and Gally began to speak, “The rules are the only thing that keep up together. If we abandon those, what will happen next? We can’t just let him get away with this.”

Newt thought for a second and nodded, “He’s right, we have the rules for a reason. Thomas broke them and we shouldn’t just shrug that off” he turned to Minho, “Min, what do you think?”

Minho turned to Newt, his arms crossed and face deadly serious, “I think, that when I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby,” he paused for a moment, looking Thomas straight in the eye, “I say we make him a runner.”

That statement caused another uproar from the crowd. This one even louder than the first. Frypan looked at Minho like he had gone insane and Gally looked like he wanted to stomp someones head in.

Thomas looked over to Chuck who had a bright, childish smile on his face. Thomas couldn’t help but grin slightly, at least he had one person on his side.

After another moment of shouting Newt stood and shouted, “Enough, we’re not going to solve anything with you slintheads shouting each other,” the room quieted, “All right then, good. What we need to do is-”

Newt’s speech was cut off by the loud screeching of gears and the pierce of an alarm.

Thomas’s head shot up, he knew that sound. That was the sound of the Box.

He looked around the room, the other Gladers looked just as confused as he was, turning to each other with dumbfounded looks on their faces. “The Box isn’t supposed to come up for another month.” Newt said, eyes filled with confusion.

The Gladers rushed out of the hut and over to the Box where they crowded around and waited for it to arrive.

When the Box finally came to a full, screeching stop, a few of the Gladers hastily opened its doors. The others leaned forward to peer inside, all curious to see why the Box had risen. Thomas fought his way to the front, wanting to get a look at what was inside. It looked like a person, they looked unconscious. Maybe another Greenie, Thomas thought, but from his angle he couldn’t see their face.

Newt hopped down into the Box to get a better look, after a moment he looked up to the others. “It’s a girl.” he said in a mix of confusion and amazement.

The Gladers looked around to one another, the only Greenie’s they ever got were boys. Not once in their time in the Glade had they seen a girl. As far as they knew they had never seen a girl in their lives, and if they had there was no way of remembering.

Newt continued to search the girls body as the others stood in confusion, he unclenched one of her hands to find a folded slip of paper. He opened it quickly and read aloud, “She’s the last one, ever,” he looked up at the others, “What the hell does that mean?”

Before he could get and answer, the boys were shocked out of their daze by a sudden intake of breath and Newt jumped from his stance in the Box. The girl took in several heaving breaths, eyes out of focus and fading back into unconsciousness. Before she passed out she got out one word, “Thomas.”

The Gladers all turned to Thomas, who stood there shocked at hearing his name leave the girl’s lips.

 

\---

 

“Ok, who the hell is the girl and why does she know Stiles?” Isaac asked. The rest of the pack looked at him incredulously. Isaac huffed, “It was rhetorical, don’t answer me.”

Derek thankfully redirected the conversation, “Have we made any progress whatsoever in finding Stiles? We can’t just sit here and watch him while all this shit happens around him.”

The others’ shoulders slumped, “There’s not much we can do until Chris gets back to us with his information. Danny has been doing his best to track down where the Maze is. But for some reason it’s impossible to find.” Jackson said solemnly.

Derek took a deep breath and sighed heavily, “Alright,” he paused for a moment, trying to figure out a plan of attack, “Danny, keep trying to find out where that Maze is, Peter will help you, he’s pretty good with computers. I guess the rest of us will just have to wait until Chris calls with some information, if any.”

Derek sat down, defeatedly, putting his head in his hands. This was so frustrating, being able to see Stiles on that screen but not knowing where he was or how to get to him. Hell, Stiles didn’t even remember who he was. Derek couldn’t help but feel hopeless. The longer it took to find Stiles, the more hope that would be stripped away.

He felt a hand on his back and looked up to see Erica, “We’ll find him, don’t worry. You two will be back to your sickly sweet romance in no time.”

Derek smiled slightly at her words, “I hope so.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such trash oh my god, this is up so much later than I wanted it to be. Life has really been kicking me in the ass lately, hopefully it'll get better and I'll have more time to write *fingers crossed*
> 
> Enjoy!

“We can’t just let him go scot-free, he needs to punished for breaking the rules.” Gally said assuredly.

Newt sighed, “I know, and he will. One night in the pit and no food.”

Gally threw his hands up in amazement, “Are you serious?! One night in the pit isn’t going to stop him from going back in the Maze!”

“You’re right. And we can’t have non-Runners just running into the Maze whenever they feel like it. So let’s just make this official. Thomas, you are now a Runner.” Newt smiled slightly at the last part. Before Gally could so much as get a word in, Newt stopped him, “No more talk of this, it’s over. Gally and Thomas get back to work.”

Gally looked like he wanted to make a statement, but decided against it and stalked out of the council room.

Thomas nodded gratefully to Newt. “Thanks Newt,” he said before exiting the hut and searching for Minho.

It was after the strange, unconscious girl had been carting away by Clint and Jeff that Newt, Gally, and Thomas returned to the council room to continue their discussion. It’s no surprise that Gally was still pissed. The appearance of the girl had only angered him further, especially after she had said Thomas’ name before passing out again.

Thomas still had no idea what his relation to this girl was. But he certainly knew her. It was the same girl from his dreams, Theresa he thinks her name is, the one that kept telling him that everything was going to change.

The note was almost more disturbing than the appearance of a girl. _She’s the last one Ever_ it had said. What that means, Thomas isn’t quite sure.

Does that mean the Box won’t bring them supplies anymore, Thomas wonders. The Gladers wouldn’t last long without those supplies.

Thomas pushed that issue to the back of his mind when he caught sight of Minho. "So I heard you're a Runner now," Minho said once Thomas approached him.

“We need to go back out there.” Thomas ignored Minho’s greeting in favor of getting straight to the point.

“Are you insane? You just got back here and now you want to go back in there?”

“Come on, Minho. No one had ever seen a Griever before, and now we have one. You can’t tell me you’re not even a little bit curious.”

Minho looked at him like he should be institutionalized, “No, I’m not, and neither should you.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and gave him his ultimatum, “I’m going out there, whether you come with me or not.”

Minho sighed in defeat, “Fine, meet me in the woods in 30 minutes.”

 

True to his word, Minho arrived approximately 30 minutes later. Following behind him were, Frypan, Zart, and Winston. Thomas grinned, he knew Minho would come through for him. Although he was curious, why didn’t Minho just bring the other Runners? Thomas asked him just that and he wasn’t entirely thrilled with the answer he received.

“The other Runners quit this morning, they saw what that Griever did to Alby and they’re not going back into the Maze” Minho sighed before turning to the small group and continuing, “We go in, take a look at the Griever, and then we’re coming straight back here. No detours, I don’t want to spend another night with the Grievers.”

The boys gave him a dutiful nod and then they headed out, back into the Maze.

 

\---

 

“What’s the idiot doing now?” Lydia asked as she walked into the living room, a tray of drinks in her hands, where Allison and Scott were watching the television screen.

“He and a few of the other boys are going back into the Maze. Stiles wants to go and see the Griever he squished last night.” Scott said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Lydia sighed fondly, “Ah, Stiles and his insatiable curiosity.” She plopped herself down onto the couch next to Allison and Scott, handing them their drinks before settling into watch Stiles.

It was weird, she was sitting down to watch her friend fight for his life like she were watching a movie. It felt wrong, but there was nothing she could do besides watch. The pack had accepted that there was nothing to do to directly help but keep searching for where Stiles was being kept.

The Maze was getting stranger and stranger the longer they watched. They didn’t know much in the first place, but things were changing, that much they understood. The appearance of the girl was definitely new, along with the note she carried with her. The most peculiar thing was that she recognized Stiles. She and Stiles had a history, that much was for certain, what that history was she had no idea but she really wanted to find out.

Lydia turned her attention back on the screen where Stiles was running back through the Maze with a few of the other boys. The image was somewhat blurry as the Beetle Blade tried to run with the boys.

The boys came to a slow stop at the sight of the crushed Griever. The same Griever that Stiles had led to its death the night before. The image was quite disgusting really, the Griever’s legs sticking out of the wall in awkward angles and, for lack of a better word, its guts were splattered across the stone floor.

The boys approached it cautiously, no one had ever been this close to a Griever before. Their faces twisted in disgust as they got a good whiff of dead Griever, Frypan covered his nose with his fingers and groaned.

Minho looked curiously at the Griever, like he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. He looked back to the other boys before stepping forward and hesitantly sticking his hand in the space where the Griever was crushed. There was a repulsive squelching sound and Minho looked like he wanted to throw up, gagging slightly. After another moment, Minho pulled his arm free, taking a piece of Griever flesh with him.

“That is so gross.” Scott said as he looked at the screen with distaste.

The other boys looked nauseous as Minho began to pull something out of the flesh. When Lydia got a good look at it she could see it was a metal cylinder, the acronym WICKED and the number 7 printed on the side. Stiles went to take a look as Minho studied it carefully.

“We should head back before the doors close.” Minho said. The rest of the Glader nodded and they began to jog back the Glade.

“What do you think that metal thing is?” Allison asked after a minute of watching the boys run.

Lydia thought for a minute, “I don’t know… maybe its like a tracking device or something for the Grievers. I mean, someone has to be controlling them. WICKED, they’re doing all of this.”

“How do you think they managed to keep all of this hidden for so long? All this just to make a good hunter? It seems ridiculous.” Scott voiced from his place beside Allison.

“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Lydia said, shaking her head, “But we’ll stop them, we’ll get Stiles back.”

“I sure hope you’re right” said Allison.

Lydia sighed, “Me too.”

 

\---

 

They had gotten back to the Glade a few minutes before the doors closed, the other boys went back to their respective duties while Minho led Thomas to a small hut. The hut was filled with parchment paper, scrap pieces were scattered everywhere, rolls of paper piled up in heaps around the room. In the center, was a huge replica of the Maze, make out of sticks and twigs.

“This is the Map Room.” Minho said, spreading his arms out wide, “It used to be that everyday, the Runners map the Maze, each Runner gets a section that they run and that they map. But we’ve mapped everything. I’ve run every inch of that Maze myself. There’s nothing left to find.”

Thomas’ face fell, “Are you’re telling me that there’s no way out? Why do you even go out there if there’s nothing left to find?”

“Because I have to believe that I’m missing something, but every time I go out there, I find nothing.”

Minho sighed before turning to the stick replica in the middle of the room, “The Maze is split up into sections, each section is open on a certain day. The sequence is always the same, 7-1-5-2-6-4-8-3,” he points to each section as he say each number, “Today, section 7 was open.”

“That was the number we found on that thing we found in the Griever.”

“Exactly, so I think it’s safe to assume that it came from section 7. I’m also thinking that each Griever has it’s own section. Grievers are practically never out in the daylight, so that begs the question, where do they go during the day? We just need to find out where they go.”

Thomas eyes widened with realization, “Are you saying you think there’s a Griever home? Do you think that’s how we can get out?”

Minho grinned, “I think it’s a start.”

Before Thomas could speak again Winston appeared in the doorway, panting and slightly panicked. “What are you doing, you can’t be in here!” Minho yelled.

“Sorry,” Winston breathed, “Just thought you should now, the girl’s awake.”

Thomas and Minho turned to each other, giving each other twin expressions of confusion before running off after Winston.

 

When Thomas entered the medical hut, he noticed Alby, still unconscious, sweating and moaning. He was coming down from the Changing, he would be awake soon enough, all they had to do was wait.

Thomas knew what happened in the Changing, and he was terrified as to what Alby was going to remember. Gally and Ben had both mentioned that they saw him in their memories, and he still didn’t know what he was doing in those memories. But he had a feeling it was nothing good.

He followed Minho to the last room in the hut where he found the girl sitting upright on the bed. The girl looked at him and her eyes widened in recognition, “Thomas.”

Thomas turned to Minho and said, “Can you just give us a minute?”

Minho gave the girl a cautious glance before he nodded and left the room.

“How do you know me?” Thomas asked the second Minho left.

The girl sighed, “I don’t know really. My memories are fading too quickly to make any sense of it, but I do know you.”

That answer didn’t make him feel very good; he and this girl were connected, but he had no idea how. Apparently the girl had the same problem. “Do you know you’re name?”

“Teresa.” She said quickly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Teresa.” He nodded at her respectively.

“That note, that they said I came with, do you know what it means?”

Thomas shook his head sadly, “Nothing good. Things are changing around here and we still don’t know why, and there’s no stopping it. Minho and I have found a lead on a way out, but we won’t know until we try.”

“Let’s hope you and Minho are right about that way out. I haven’t been here very long, but I do not want to stay any longer.”

 

\---

 

“Has anyone gotten word from Chris yet?” Isaac asked.

Peter nodded, “He called me about an hour ago, he said he’s gotten very little information. Apparently the facility Stiles is being kept at is underground somewhere in Mexico, as Chris has been told. The fact that it’s underground makes it a lot harder to find, but he’s still looking. We’ll get Stiles back.”

Derek let out a small sigh of relief, they had finally gotten _something_. Derek had been hoping for days that they would find something even remotely helpful, and he’s finally got it. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without Stiles. It had taken him so long to find closure that Stiles was gone and he could do nothing to find him, but now Derek knew Stiles was out there. And Stiles was in trouble, stuck in some sick experiment, and Derek needed to get him back.

He wouldn’t rest until Stiles was safe, back home and back in his arms.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm the worst person to ever live. It has been way too long since I have updated and I don't want to bore you with excuses but I have had practically no time to work on my writing. Luckily, things have cleared up a little for the time being so I promise you you will never have to wait this long for another chapter. I am so so sorry for making you guys wait, but here is the new chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Hey, what is your problem with me?” Thomas asked as Gally led him to the Pit where he was to spend the night.

“Everything starting going wrong the minute you showed up,” Gally replied quietly, “First Ben, then Alby, and now the girl. Everyone saw that she recognized you, and I’m bettin’ that you know who she is.” Gally gave him a hard look before opening the door to the Pit and letting him climb in.

As Gally was tying the wooden door shut, Thomas said, “Gally, you know we can’t stay here.” Gally just stared at him and then walked away. Thomas sighed, why couldn’t Gally just listen to him?

A few moment later, he heard footsteps and leaned forward to see who was there. It turned out to be Chuck, who had brought with him some food. “Here,” he said passing Thomas the bread, “you’ll run better on a full stomach.”

“Thanks Chuck,” Thomas noticed that Chuck was playing with something in his hand, “Hey, what you got there?”

Chuck smiled slightly and showed Thomas the little figurine that he had carved himself, “It’s for my parents.”

“You remember your parents”

“No,” Chuck sighed, “I mean I know I must have them and I’m sure they miss me. But I can’t miss them because I can’t remember them,” he paused, “What do you think you’re going to find out here tomorrow?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Thomas sounded slightly resigned, “But if there’s a way out me and Minho are going to find it.”

Chuck nodded his head sadly and muttered “Yeah” under his breath. He looked at his figurine for a moment before passing it to Thomas. 

Thomas looked at the figurine, confused, “Chuck why would you give this to me?”

“Can’t remember them anyway. But maybe if you find a way out you can give it to them for me.” Chuck rose to his feet and then started to walk away. 

“Hey Chuck?” When Chuck turned back around, Thomas stuck his hand through the bars and handed him back his carving, “I want you to give this to them yourself. We’re gonna get out of here, all of us. I promise.”

Chuck swallowed thickly before nodding, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, buddy.”

 

\---

 

At the first sign of light, Minho had let him out and they had set off back into the Maze, the metal canister they had found in the Griever strapped to Minho’s pack. 

“Come on, we’re almost to section 7.” Minho encouraged as they ran through the seemingly endless concrete halls of the Maze. They were both hopeful that with their new clue, they would be able to make some headway into finding a way out of the Maze. 

Soon enough they reached an area of the Maze Thomas had never seen before: great big metal door-like structures erected from the ground, mounted on rotating blocks of rusted metal. Seeing Thomas’ confusion Minho said, “We call ‘em Blades. Nasty things. If they ever start moving you best get the hell out of here.”

“Good to know.” Thomas said nervously. 

As they continued to the forest of Blades the boys started hearing a strange ticking noise. They stopped and listened in confusion; realizing what the source of the ticking was, Thomas grabbed Minho’s pack and yanked the metal canister from it without warning. 

“What the hell?” Minho asked. 

Thomas turned slightly and the ticking increased, eyes widening he took a step forward and then back again as the canister responded to his actions. He took several steps forward then, the ticking increasing with each step. He stopped and turned to Minho, grinning, “Follow me I guess.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but followed Thomas nonetheless. They made their way through the Blades, turning in the directions where the beeping would increase the most. As they got closer to the outer walls, the beeping increased to the point where it sounded as if the canister were emitting a single, steady tone. When they reached but a few feet away from the outer wall sharp click was heard and then a great groan and a passage slid open within the wall. 

Both boys startled back as the concrete lifted itself, they turned to look at each other, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervousness. Without a word between the two, Thomas took the first step forward in the newly discovered hallway. 

“Minho, you ever see this place before?”

Minho responded breathlessly, “No.”

It was a single path of concrete, dropping off into nothing on both sides. Thomas went over to the edge to see if he could see the ground, but there was nothing but a dark abyss below. He gave it a grim look before catching up to Minho who had reached the end of the path.

Once Thomas reached Minho, the canister’s tone ceased and again a slab of concrete was lifted to reveal yet another passageway. This passage was much smaller, divided by three separate concrete slab that lifted one after the other. At the end of the passage was a metal circle, when the boys reached it the metal spiraled outward to reveal darkness.

Thomas and Minho leaned in closer. There must be more, Thomas thought, there has to something here other than darkness. Both boys nearly jumped out of their skins when a sudden flash of red erupted from the darkness, the light blinked several times before it scanned the boys thoroughly.

Seconds after the red light blinked out of existence, another groan echoed through the halls, this one sounding more like an alarm than grinding concrete. The boys jumped again when they saw that the walls above them were steadily closing. They shared a quick look of panic before they sprinted out of the passageway and back down the path they came.

Things only worsened when the reached the forest of Blades, which were each slamming shut one-by-one. Thomas panicked momentarily, afraid they would be trapped and would have to stay yet another night in the Maze. 

Before he could allow the panic to swallow him up he heard Minho shouting, “Come on, let’s go!” Thomas let his legs carry him through the forest of metal, following right behind Minho, cutting in and out of the gaps that the closing Blades created. 

At one point, Thomas had gotten himself trapped on the wrong side of the closing Blades. He tried to find an opening so he wouldn’t be closed inside the Maze and eventually become Griever-chow, but the Blades were closing too fast in front of him. He heard Minho shouting for him as his chance at making it grew smaller, he pushed himself even harder and took a leap of faith, squeezing his body in between the closing Blades in front of him. 

He didn’t have much time for celebration, as Thomas and Minho left the Blades behind the rest of the Maze decided to change as well. Their was a great groaning, sharp metals clicks were heard and suddenly enormous slabs of concrete began to fall from their positions on the walls of the Maze. The boys sprinted as fast as they could to avoid being crushed by the falling concrete, legs shaky as the ground quaked with the impact of the concrete. 

They quickly came upon the exit to section 7, but as they grew closer to the path they had originally come through, they saw the path was rapidly closing as a slab of concrete rose up from the ground and blocked their only way out. Not allowing himself to panic, Thomas followed Minho’s lead and leaped on top of the the rising slab. They hastily crawled along the top as the gap was becoming smaller and smaller, Thomas felt his head beginning to hit the ceiling and he quickened his pace. Minho threw himself at the opening and Thomas soon followed, they both hit the ground hard and heard the entrance finally slamming shut. 

Both sprawled out the ground, Minho and Thomas were finally able to breath. 

 

\---

 

“Holy shit, that was impressive.” Jackson said, eyes wide. 

Lydia smacked him on the arm from her seat on the couch, “We just watched Stiles and that guy Minho almost get killed by huge slabs of metal, crushed by falling concrete, and smushed between the walls, and all you have to say is ‘that was impressive’!?” 

Jackson rubbed his arm, slightly put off and grumbled, “Well it was… Never thought of Stilinski as that much of an athlete.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and went back to watching as Stiles and Minho returned to the Glade. 

“What the hell was that?” demanded Gally as soon as he saw Thomas. 

“We think we found something, a way out.” Thomas said simply. 

Gally scoffed, “Yeah right, been here for three days and the guys already find a way out that we’ve been looking for for three  _ years _ .”

“It’s true Gally,” Minho stepped in, “It’s like nothing we ever seen before. It could be a way out.” 

Jackson turned to Lydia, “Lydia, what happens if they manage to find a way out before we get there?”

Lydia looked down at her hands and frowned, “I don’t really know, but let’s just hope that doesn’t happen.”

“What was it?” Chuck piped up. 

“We don’t really know, we think it’s where the Grievers go during the day.” said Thomas.

“You’re saying you want us to escape through the Griever’s home.” Chuck deadpanned, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

Now Gally was really angry, “Once again, Thomas doesn’t know what he’s found. For all you know, this could get us all killed. For three years with lived in peace with the Grievers and now you’ve killed one  _ and _ invaded their home Thomas, how do you think they're gonna react.”

Stiles stomped up to Gally, eyes burning with anger, “You know, from where I see it Gally, you may have been here for three years, but you’re  _ still here _ . At least I’m trying to do something instead of sitting on my ass not doing anything to help my friends.”

Gally pulled his arm back, looking more than ready to throw a punch in Stiles’s direction. Lydia was really starting to get pissed off by this guy, she understood where he was coming from to a certain extent, but at this point he was starting to sound insane. 

Their fight was soon interrupted by a female shouting, “You guys!” the Gladers turned to see Teresa looking exasperated and tired, “Alby’s awake.” Stiles and Gally backed up from each other, then Stiles, Minho, Chuck, and Teresa ran over to the medical tent. 

Once they reached Alby’s room they slowed down, becoming cautious, Newt was the first to walk toward him, kneeling down in front of him and talking softly, “Alby, how do you feel?”

Alby remained quiet, so Stiles knelt down in front of him, “Hey, Alby. Listen, we might have just found a way out of the Maze. You hear me, we could be gettin’ outta’ here.”

Alby didn’t move, his eyes staying fixed on the ground in front of him. Lydia looked closely, watching his hands clench and eyes water, “We can’t.”

Stiles’s face fell, “What?”

Alby finally turned to look him in the eyes, “We can’t,” he repeated, “We can’t leave. They won’t let us.” With every word, Alby became more and more devastated until the point where he looked practically unhinged. 

“What are you talking about?”

Tears started to collect in his eyes, “I remember.”

Everyone in the room held their breath, “What do you remember?”

Alby turned quickly and looked straight into Stiles’ eyes, “You,” he said plainly. “You were always their favorite Thomas, always. Why did you do this, why did you come here?”

The others were horrified by Alby’s words, Stiles especially. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, the other Gladers shouting about something. Alby put his head between his head and rocked back and forth, crying softly. The others in the room looked around worriedly before rushing outside.

“What the hell is going on?” Jackson shouted, both of them on the edge of their seats. 

They watched as the Stiles asked the same question to another Glader, Winston if Lydia remembered correctly. “It’s the doors, they aren’t closing.”

Gladers were rushing around, panicking and shouting and crowding by the entrance to the Maze with their torches. They suddenly quieted as they looked for some sign of danger within the Maze. They jumped when a familiar groaning was heard, but it wasn’t coming from the main entrance. Lydia watched as they all turned around in horror to see the entrance at the opposite side of the Glade sliding open. 

The cracking and groaning was heard twice more in quick succession as the other two entrances to the Maze opened. Stiles turned to Chuck, “I need you to go to the Council Hall and start barricading the doors.”

Newt nodded, “Winston go with him.”

Winston and Chuck ran off as Gally started to try and take control, “Everyone else, go to the forest and hide there. Now!”

Stiles then turned to Minho, “I need you go gather every weapon you can find. Meet at the Council Hall,” Minho ran off with a few other Gladers and Stiles turned to Teresa, “We’re gonna go get Alby, come on let’s go.”

As Stiles was about to set off they heard terrified screams coming from the forest. The Gladers who had gone to hide in there were sprinting away from it and screaming “Grievers!”

Stiles and Teresa turned the entrance behind them and saw several Grievers scuttling their way closer to the group. Stiles looked panicked, “Everybody hide!”

Lydia turned to Jackson, their eyes wide with fear, and said “We need to call Derek.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story, your likes and comments keep this story alive :)))

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me: @mr-ankles.tumblr.com


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